Return to the Lion
by Kit49
Summary: Numair's enlightening POV in EM. A couple of scenes.
1. Default Chapter

Return to the Lion  
  
A/N: Recently I was discussing with some peeps the fact that we felt cheated out of Numair's thoughts and POV in the Immortals quartet. So here I attempted to fish into his mind and write it like he would see. This really isn't my best work; I'm trying to get back into the whole writing process, so forgive me!  
  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Tamora Pierce.   
  
Numair tidied his perfect horsetail, then scrutinized his reflection in the tiny mirror hanging on the wall in his cabin. He and the other Tortallan delegates had reached Carthak, and he couldn't remember a time when he felt more apprehensive. He gave up trying to see his whole image and left the room to go on deck where they would all wait to board the boat that was to take them ashore.  
  
Top deck the sun beat down, his black mastery robe soaking in the heat like a desert does water. Numair shook his head and wondered for the hundredth time if it was worth all the schooling required to wear the horribly uncomfortable robe. He reached the railing on the side of the whip and subconsciously gripped it while scanning his eyes along the coast.  
  
Almost a decade ago had it not been Numair's life on the line, he would have been proud to know that his head was worth the price it cost to build half the Imperial castle. The matter of his escape was known throughout the land; even those who were illiterate or blind knew what the signs with the drawing of the handsome young man with a horsetail said. They all stated that he was a traitor and had threatened the crown, and was wanted dead or alive.  
  
Ozorne had been so obsessed with Numair's capture, and now he had granted a royal pardon, forgiving Numair of all previous crimes. Being best friends with Ozorne for almost eleven years, Numair knew Ozorne, and knew that pushing aside his hate for the peace talks was uncharacteristic. Something was amiss. The best Numiar could do would be to stay out of the way and try to blend with the scenery.  
  
This place was his previous home, from whence he had escaped through some miraculous divine intervention. He had never fully understood his rocky departure from this exotic land, but knew only that at least one of the Gods had seen fit for him to leave and so aided his escape.  
  
He was eternally grateful for this, and for his chance to make a new life and new friends in Tortall. But above all else, he was glad to have met Daine. She, a teenager barely coming to understand herself and her powers, played a crucial role in his life. She was his student, his comrade in arms, and one of his closest friends. Above all else, she understood and trusted him. And still with all of this in mind, he didn't know exactly what it was that drew them together. It was like some undeniable force that always made the other the safest company to be in.  
  
Numair knew the Gods had a habit of interfering with Daine's life, and knew that she attracted trouble because of it. In Tortall this wasn't so much of a problem as it was (as was commonly said by her friends) and "eye opener". But in Carthak, her unintentional trouble situations could land her in a whole load more trouble than Numair even wanted to imagine. He would have to keep a close eye on her and pray that the Gods wouldn't intervene here.  
  
Just as he was thinking this, the voice of his thoughts walked up to him and said something. He didn't respond, still thinking about his trepidation on the whole matter of Carthak.  
  
She spoke again. "Is something wrong?"  
  
He answered this time. "No magelet. And I am as well as may be expected. I can't say which prospect makes me more apprehensive – that of meeting old enemies or old friends." He knew he sounded solemn, but couldn't hold back the queer feeling he got about returning to the company of a man who once sought his life.  
  
"Old enemies, surly?"  
  
"I don't know," he said in a hushed voice. "I was very different then. And you know what the wise men say – 'Only birds can return to old nests.'"  
  
He shook his head; here he was filling her head with his own worries when she was probably more unsure about this situation than he was. He smiled and looked down at her, and was pleasantly surprised by her appearance. "Mithros bless. You look very pretty."  
  
He noticed her blush modestly and couldn't help but feel a surge of pride in her.  
  
"You think so really?" She asked shyly. "I know I don't hold a candle to Alanna, or the queen –"  
  
He held up his hand to put a stop to her humble blunderings and went on to say, "That isn't strictly accurate. The Lioness is one of my dearest friends, but she is not an exemplar of female beauty. Years and experience have given her charm, and her eyes are extraordinary, but she is not beautiful. Queen Thayet is outstandingly attractive, it's true, but you have your own – something." He looked her over closely, careful not to keep his eyes lingering where they shouldn't. Her eyes seemed to call out in a way Numair had never noticed before.  
  
He had always known that his student was attractive, filled with a kind of wild fire that appropriately matched her magic. But in this attire she seemed more of something that he couldn't quite place his finger on. "You should wear blue more often. It brings out matching shades in your eyes."  
  
Daine seemed a bit flustered by his sudden attention to her physical appearance, which went to further amuse him. He was about to comment on the sapphire drops in her earlobes, his midwinter gift to her, when they were interrupted.  
  
"I heard that about my looks," Alanna said as she joined them. She threatened him mockingly. "I'll get you later." Turning to Daine she grinned, "You do look good."  
  
"Thanks," Daine mumbled. "So do you."  
  
The sounds of people talking reached their ears and they noticed everyone joining them. Numair felt Daine tug on his sleeve. He leaned down slightly to show he was listening, but kept his eyes on the ships around them.  
  
"I need to talk to you as soon as you can manage, it's really important."  
  
He nodded, acknowledging her. Across the harbor a gong sounded three times, which immediately sent the Carthaki's on the dock to their knees, touching their heads to the ground. As steady drumbeats filled the air, a lavishly decorated boat, rowed by whom Numair recognized at once as slaves, came toward them. He winced inwardly at the memory of being waited on hand and foot by people who were no more happy to be there than he was. When he was a youth he had enjoyed the treatment, but now things were different, He was different.  
  
"Who is that?" Numair heard Daine ask no one in particular.  
  
Gareth the younger responded before Numair could see whom Daine was talking about. "Probably a lesser Prince, one of the Imperial court."  
  
Numair noticed the young man they were speaking of. "This prince isn't a lesser one. See the lapis lazuli rod in his left hand? That is an attribute of the heir – what's his name?"  
  
"His nephew Kaddar," someone behind him said. "Age sixteen, studies at the university."  
  
As they got into the ships boat and were rowed to the galley, Numair thought over this information closely. The heir, Kaddar, was a close relative of Ozorne, and he would most likely be something of a personal guide for the Tortallans. Numair's eyes flickered over to where his young student stood. She was fifteen, almost this Prince's age. The Prince and Daine would probably end up spending a considerable amount of time together, and this irked Numair for some unexplainable reason. He mad a mental note to speak to Daine about the heir and safety precautions that should be taken in his company.  
  
A ladder was dropped to them, and Numair waited for those more important to the delegation to climb up before he did himself. Once on top, Numair allowed himself a small smile at hearing Kitten making short indignant chirping noises, no doubt scolding Daine for something.  
  
Somewhere someone called orders and a drumbeat was pounded. Slowly the boat began to turn.  
  
Numair began to remember the importance of protocol and ceremonies in Carthak, something he had easily forgotten under the informal rule in Tortall. – Informal but Gods blessed practical – Numair thought to himself. Something that would take ten minutes to accomplish in Tortall could easily take over an hour in Carthak due to all the formalities.  
  
Numair glanced over his surroundings with unease. He couldn't help but feel that he had escaped the jaws of the lion almost ten years ago, only to be back dangling himself in front of the hungry predator like fresh meat.  
  
The Harold that stood to the left of the finely decorated prince interrupted his thoughts. "His Imperial Highness, Kaddar Gazanoi Iliniat, head of House Khazoi –"  
  
Numair chanced a glance behind him and noticed Daine's interest had already wavered, she was looking around at the slaves and the oars. He hadn't even thought how different this must be for her. He knew by the look on her face what she was thinking. She was strongly against cages of any kind, and here were men chained to the boat in a sort of cage for humans.  
  
He looked back to the prince and Harold. "– Majesty, Ozorne Mahassin Tasikhe –"  
  
Numair shuddered. – I must really be a dolt, just like Daine tells me, for coming back –  
  
The introductions began. First in line were Duke Gareth, Lord Martin, and Alanna. After they had been presented, he stepped foreword, inspecting the prince closely. With all the jewelry and eye makeup and stony expression, it was hard to tell what the prince was thinking. A nephew of Ozorne was a nephew of Numair's enemy, and someone not to be trusted. He bowed stiffly, hoping this prince wasn't a younger version of his uncle.  
  
A/N: should I do more like this? 


	2. Aviary

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I decided to do a few more Numair POV cause I like doing them and you guys like reading them (or say you do). It was brought to my attention by someone reviewing another of my stories that Numair figures out he loves Daine in the beginning of ROTG. And I agree, but his love could be building all the while in Carthak. I don't think we'll ever know for sure, which is the reason for all these fics you see about it.  
  
Insomniac-Reader – Thanks!  
  
Wild Magelet – haha, if only. Thank you!  
  
Rose8 – here it is, more. Although I don't know how much I am going to do.  
  
Narm's Briton 44 - grins......thanksthanksthanksthanks!  
  
CrAzYhOrSeGiRl88 – I'm glad you approve! Doesn't the reason behind Numair being so distrustful of Kaddar make so much more sense when Ozzy has something to do with it? Not just Numair is being overprotective?  
  
Goddess Of The Moon – I agree, Numairs prospective is very interesting! Thanks for the reminder about the love timing issue; I hope it's all right that I kind of bend what she's given us for the purpose of my stories.  
  
This is not the scene directly after the previous chapter.  
  
In the darkness, sixteen-year-old Ozorne held up a torch, throwing the handsome features on his face into relief. He smiled and turned to his best friend, Arram Draper, just one year younger than Ozorne. "Here it is, the temple of Jihuk. God of deep desert winds and demons."  
  
Arram nodded slightly in recognition of the name. Recently in their studies at the Imperial University they had discussed this god. He was a great god, along with Mithros and the Mother Goddess, but didn't get as much publicity. He liked to work quietly.  
  
"It's huge." Arram murmured.  
  
"Yes," Ozorne answered as he started climbing the first steps. "The Ancients felt they needed to bribe him to keep his desert demons away from their cities." When he was at the entry way he turned to Arram. "Come on."  
  
Arram, still hesitant about being here, slowly climbed the steps. When he joined Ozorne at the doorway he nodded, signifying that he was ready. "They tried to bribe a god?"  
  
"They were foolish." The two youths entered the temple wherein the temperature dropped considerably. "Then they realized that trying to bribe him with a large temple, even on his own grounds out here in the desert, was not enough."  
  
They continued walking through the temple, scanning the ancient writings on the walls with their eyes. "This is in Old Thak," said Arram. "They're prayers."  
  
"To Jihuk, asking him to keep away the winds that could cover up their city. Over here is a writing that is curious." He held the torch up to light upon a large door on which there was precise writing, different from the other prayers. "An old man came here one night to pray for his families safety from demons. He was carrying out the proper ceremony when a great windstorm hit inside the temple. The old man was knocked out when his head hit one of the walls. But when he came to he saw this door that had never been there before. And this writing was on the door." Ozorne gave Arram a moment to digest the story and try to decipher the writing before continuing.  
  
"It says that Jihuk demands blood. Every full moon they must leave someone from the city behind this door to be sacrificed for the good of all." Ozorne smiled evilly. "The first sacrifice was the old man."  
  
Arram felt a chill go through him. "The other gods didn't do anything about it? They allowed him to do this?"  
  
"What could they do? He was completely within his rights to demand their lives. The other gods do it. They command thousands to go to war, Jihuk commands one man a month to die for him. Besides, why would they do anything? It sounds like a good idea to me."  
  
Arram looked at Ozorne. "What?"  
  
"The people chose someone in the village to be sacrificed who was not particularly liked, or who caused trouble. It's a way of cleaning out the filth."  
  
Arram remained quiet, trying hard not to remember that one day Ozorne would be Emperor.  
  
Ozorne reached out towards the door. "Let's go in"  
  
Arram hesitated. "Is that wise, going into the sacrificial chamber?"  
  
"Sacrificial chamber from thousands of years ago." Ozorne pushed on the door hard, and it slowly opened. He walked in and immediately the torch went out with a gust of wind. There were no windows to the outside.  
  
"That may have been thousands of years ago, but I think Jihuk is still around. If I'm not mistaken, this god takes disrespect seriously."  
  
A faint glow of emerald light grew around Ozornes hand. They both froze at what they saw before them. Shelves were lined up on the walls going as far as the light reached. The ceiling was too high up to see by the light, and so the room seemed like it went on forever into the dark abyss of night. In rows on each of the shelves were human skulls, their empty eye sockets staring down at the young men, luring them in closer. In the center of the wide room was a table on which lay a young woman, or the rotting remains of one.  
  
Arram was too disturbed to speak, although Ozorne seemed to have found his voice after the initial shock. Quietly he said, "I thought these practices were long dead. Apparently not." He said it with a fascination, as though it were a mere intellectual discovery, not a room filled with the stench of thousands of years worth of death. "I –"  
  
The door behind them slammed shut rather quickly for a door of its size. The two spun around, realizing immediately that there was no way out.  
  
Numair sat up in bed shaking. He had had his dream again. The one when he and Ozorne as teens had visited the forbidden temple of Jihuk and had almost been trapped before they realized that the door was glowing grey, the color of Lindhall Reed's magical gift. Lindhall had tried to scare the boys out of visiting there again. It worked for Numair, he knew when he was wanted and when to leave a place alone. But Ozorne seemed to be thrilled by the idea that his father, the Emperor of Carthak, had continued on the secret rituals just as all other rulers of Carthak had before him. Numair wondered if Ozorne still kept this tradition going. Then realized that Ozorne probably continued it and sacrificed whole families at a time with zeal.  
  
A sigh next to him shook him from his thoughts. He looked over to see Varice Kingsford delicately spread out under the blanket. His thoughts turned to the night before, the pleasure she had given him, it reminded him of when he had lived in Carthak. She was still beautiful, but he realized with some regret that he no longer loved her; he hardly liked her now that he thought about it. The truth was that he had changed. While Varice still enjoyed petty things, he had come to understand life, and what it really was to love. He loved the Royal family, he loved Onua, Alanna. He loved Tortall. He loved Daine. (A/N: not THAT kind of love.....still friends!)  
  
He looked outside his window and saw that it was time for him to get up and talk to Daine. She had requested and audience with him when they were on the boat and said that it was important. In his mind, talking to Daine was a higher priority than securing a former lover in the morning. Quickly he cleaned the floor of his clothes that had been so carelessly strewn about the night before. He changed into a fresh shirt and breeches then left the sleeping Varice to awaken to an empty bed.  
  
Numair stormed down the elegant corridor, more angry and afraid than he had been in a long time. His attempts to find Daine had been fruitless, and knew that there could only be one reason, Ozorne. He briskly walked towards the aviary where a personal slave of Ozorne had directed him. Getting the whereabouts had taken longer than usual, having to resort to using and reading crude sign language, considering that all of Ozorne's personal slaves were mute.  
  
If Ozorne had taken Daine it would be near impossible to get her back, he could keep her hidden from anyone seeking to release her. Numair knew that there were rooms underneath the palace that canceled out any magical gift from the inside or out. An acute voice at the back of Numair's brain wondered if these rooms would cancel out her wild magic, but was quickly silenced with the thought of Daine being under Ozornes control.  
  
The rational part of Numair considered the fact that she might just be in the aviary with Ozorne, in which case Numair would remove her immediately.  
  
Numair practically ran into the aviary where he immediately saw Ozorne, calm and collected, feeding his birds, and no Daine. Had the situation not been so dire, Numair would have found it amusing that the vain Emperor of Carthak was being flocked about by little birds, completely looking the fool. Ozorne appeared not to notice Numair enter.  
  
"Where is Daine?" Numair knew he sounded harsh and couldn't care less. As far as he was concerned, this man had taken his magelet and was no more fit to be Emperor than the lions in his menagerie.  
  
Ozorne looked surprised to see Numair. "Arram, what an unpleasant surprise. Or is it Numair now?"  
  
Numair ignored this and asked again. "Is Daine here with you, or have you locked her up?" At this second question, Numair's voice held a touch of sarcasm, mocking Ozorne's tendencies to lock up anyone who bothered him.  
  
Ozorne held the slightest look of concern. "Why would we do this? She has pleased us. Is Veralidaine not with you?"  
  
"I checked the baths, and the gardens, and she is nowhere to be found. If she is here and you are concealing her from me –"  
  
"Be assured, Draper," he said this name mockingly. "She is not here. We had hoped she would be, to see how our birds have improved."  
  
"If they have, then you have no further need of her. We all prefer that you leave her in peace."  
  
"We are inclined to give her grace and favor." Numair shuddered at this thought. Ozornes idea of favor was not always what it seemed. "She has served us well, and we wish to reward her."  
  
"She requires no rewards for your providing, your Imperial Majesty." Numair was so angry now he wasn't quite sure what held him back from blasting Ozorne into a million pieces. "She is well enough as she is."  
  
Ozorne had not looked at Numair this entire conversation, and continued to feed his birds. "Such heat over a girl child, and one without family or connection to recommend her. Why concern yourself in her affairs? You will forget she exists the moment some rare tome of magic comes into your hands, or some arcane toy. That has always been your way. You take up with someone, make them feel you are their sworn friend, then turn on them the moment you have what you wanted from them."  
  
Numair knew Ozorne was referring to the experience that had led to their hatred for each other, and knew that he blew it extremely out of proportion. "How like you to see it in those terms. She is my student. You will never understand that. You never could sustain so profound a tie. Once you gained your throne, you decided you no longer required mere human bonds." Numair was absolutely livid.  
  
Ozorne took a moment to respond, lifting his fingers up to inspect his nails. "Human bonds." Ozorne said quietly. "I am certain you and your lovely student have a most profound bond. Must you share a bed with her animals as well as with her?"  
  
The shock Numair felt at this comment was quickly overcome with irrational anger as he lashed his hand out to hit Ozorne as hard as possible.  
  
Ozorne quickly put up a sheet of emerald mage fire, protecting himself from Numairs hand.  
  
Numair pulled back, rubbing the sting away. "If you interfere with her, if you harm her in any way, it will be a breach of the peace accords." His voice was filled with heated anger, his eyes searing into Ozornes. "All of the Eastern Lands will unite to destroy you." He turned on his heal and left.  
  
His entire body felt as though it were on fire, his mind unable to keep simple thoughts pieced together. Ozorne had hit Numair right where it hurt. Numair still did not know where Daine was, although he believed that Ozorne did not have her.  
  
Numair absent-mindedly continued to rub his sore hand. Ozorne had suggested that Numair used Daine for his own pleasure, like some common court lady that he would have lured into his bed in his younger days. Daine was not common! She was one of a kind; she held a place in his heart that no one else could fill, not Varice, not any lady, not a queen or a goddess, not nobody! Daine was too special to be toyed around with, and Numair would never do what Ozorne had suggested. She was his gods blessed student for Mithros' sake.  
  
Numair was the first into breakfast, for which he was grateful. His cheeks were still burning and he was shaking in anger.  
  
Slowly others entered the main room, groggy from lack of sleep. Apparently he was not the only one having a hard time sleeping in this cursed place. He picked at a few fruits on his plate, still thinking about the conversation in the aviary. When Daine entered, he looked up but said nothing.  
  
"Sorry I'm late, I went to the aviary before dawn and got lost coming back." He couldn't be sure, but Numair thought he saw Daine look pointedly at him as she sat down.  
  
As they all finished eating, Numair stood and said "Daine, you asked to speak to me alone. Let's go to my room."  
  
Alanna heard. "Then I go, too."  
  
"It isn't needful – it's just a magic thing." Daine said.  
  
"If you visit a man's room, you need a chaperon." Alanna shook her head. "Really, Numair, you know Carthakis. They think an unveiled woman is no better than she ought to be. Until we leave here, you can't talk with her unless chaperoned or you can manage it in public."  
  
Numair could feel his face getting hot. Even though the lioness hadn't meant for any insult to be made, this hurt him. With the wound still fresh from Ozorne, Alanna had added a touch of salt. It was upsetting, even if it wasn't true. "A fine thing when I can't talk to my student alone." Numair exasperated. "Let's go then."  
  
As he entered his room, Numair noticed gratefully that Varice was gone, although the room smelled lightly of perfume. Numair's blush deepened. He didn't particularly want Daine knowing of the extent his relationship had taken with the woman.  
  
Numair spoke a word, sending black flame into the corners, covering the windows and door. He calmed down a bit and sat on his bed. "It's safe now, talk." 


	3. Ship conversations

A/N: Does anyone have any suggestions for another scene that I could do? It doesn't have to be in EM. If not I'm thinking this will be the last chapter. I really am just in a "whatever" mood right now. Anyway, enough waiting.

Disclaimer: I'm trying to think of a creative way to tell you that I don't own it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Goddess of the Moon: Thank you, was it too much like the book?

Xavier: Thank you very much, I'm trying to keep going.

Narm's Briton 44: Wow, thank you! You're just full of compliments! That's awesome. Numair is a tricky fellow to understand don't you think? By the way, you make me laugh! Love your stories!

Maiden-of-dark-life: Nice name! I love EM as well. Thanks for the half compliment at least, is there a way that I can earn the other half? Any suggestions?

Roherwen: I would love to read something you wrote about Numair's POV! Thank you.

Insomniac-Reader: Thank you, here's more.

Crazy.kitty: I've always wondered as well. What I wrote was very one sided, opinionated. I'm sure he was thinking nothing along those lines, but it was fun to write.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

As the Tortallans waited to board the large boat for the nights banquet, Numair stole a glance at his lovely student. She truly was something to behold. With her stunning grey eyes reflecting the light, and her thick brown curls cascading rebelliously across her face in the light breeze, it was no wonder that she had caught his eye. But as Numair looked up, he noticed another who was eyeing Daine, and with something more than the platonic glance Numair had given her.

For a brief moment, Kaddar's eyes held an unusual presence of unmistakable longing while eyeing Daine. Numair knew this expression all too well. It was the expression he himself had worn as a youth when he felt his manly ego build up and desire a woman. He did not like that the prince of Carthak had such affection for Daine, and brooded on the subject further while he was led to his seat between Alanna and, much to his discomfiture, Varice Kingsford.

Numair stayed silent while those around him exchanged quick words, inquiring as to how the evening would commence.

Once everyone had settled, the Emperor signaled that the four mages in the bow and stern could proceed with the events. In unison, the four clapped their hands and bowed their heads. The boat trembled ever so slightly, and then began to move north.

Numair felt childhood memories come back with Ozorne's smug expression. "Show off," Numair muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry dear, what did you say?" Varice batted her eyelashes prettily at him.

He flashed her a false grin. "Did I say something?"

Varice laughed and brushed her hand over his well-muscled arm before turning to her meal.

-She thinks I'm flirting – he realized. He shook his head and began to eat as well. To look was to flirt with Varice.

From his seat, Numair had a clear view of Daine sitting with the prince. He saw Daine's eyes light up as Kaddar made a comment. Although Numair would never admit it to anyone, he felt a twinge of jealousy at seeing the young man receive so much attention from Daine.

Numair had gotten almost no time on this cursed trip to spend with his magelet, and found it rather upsetting. Daine had a way of calming him down when he was upset or stressed, two things he had felt a lot lately. She also, he thought with a slight grin, had a way of angering him as no one else could. Numair knew this was mutual however, as he did the same things to her.

Daine's laugh sent him out of his reverie. Gods how he missed that laugh, he had heard far too little of it in Carthak and was glad to see her happy, although usually when they were at home Numair was the reason for her giggles. But here he saw that another had taken his place, a young man who was the heir to the most dangerous and demented man in the mortal realms.

Turning to Alanna he said, "It seems that Daine and the prince are getting on quite nicely, doesn't it?"

Alanna looked up from her food. "Yes. Thank the Gods too. She's found someone her own age to entertain her whilst we sit in the grand presence of the Emperor and talk about fishing rights. Speaking of which, what was........."

Numair lost the rest of Alanna's sentence in his jumble of thoughts. –Someone her own age to entertain her- Numair blatantly stared at the prince and his subtle gestures towards Daine. The prince knew what he was doing; he was experienced in this sort of thing. Daine, however, was not. Kaddar, whom Numair could never forget was Ozorne's heir and closest family, enjoyed Daine's company a little too much.

Numair stood, stopping Alanna mid sentence. "Excuse me Alanna, Varice." And with no more of an explanation walked over to where Kaddar sat with Numair's student.

"May I join you?" He asked, and without an answer sat down. He got himself comfortable then turned his unrelenting gaze towards the prince. He forced a smile on his face. "We haven't really had a chance to chat. I understand you're studying with my friends Lindhall Reed."

The prince merely nodded.

"What course of studies, may I ask?" Numair was surprised at his own ability to remain composed and almost friendly, when in reality he wanted to ingrain into this young man's mind with his magical fire that Daine was off limits to him and his 'male ego'.

"The relation of men, animals, and plants to one another, with a matching course in law. Next spring, if things permit, I hope to go south with Master Lindhall and a group from the university to look into the causes of the drought. We're hoping – well, the masters are; I'll just be there to carry things – we hope to find some way to end it. Five years is a long time."

However interested his scholarly side of him was in this, the over-protective side of Numair took over. "I see. Commendable. With regard to our position as his heir, has your uncle arranged a marriage for you?"

From the corner of his eye, Numair saw Daine look up at him sharply from peeling an orange. He knew Daine would be upset by this, but still continued.

"He is negotiating with he king of Galla for the hand of one of his daughters. There is also a princess in the Copper Isles who my uncle feels is a possibility."

"I see. But you are involved with girls, are you not?" Numair's voice was matter-of-fact, "Students at the university, young noblewomen. Are they aware you are not permitted to marry to please yourself?" He had hit a sore point, and so had Daine as she kicked his shin under the table.

Kaddar's once kindly countenance now stiffened in defense at Numair's inquiry. "No gentleman deceives a woman in that manner, sir."

Daine's kicks became incessant. "Indeed not. Stop kicking me Daine. You understand, she-" he nodded towards his mortified student, "-is very important to a number of powerful nobles and mages in Tortall." Through all of this Numair managed to keep his voice calm and friendly, and even though his slight smile was still there from the beginning of their conversation, his eyes were two black daggers piercing into the prince. Numair would get his point across. "Their majesties. Lady Alanna and her husband, the baron of Pirate's Swoop. Me. All of us would take it amiss if we thought for one moment she was being trifled with, particularly by a young man who wasn't free to do the right thing by her."

"Numair," Daine seemed ready to bite his head off. "Can I speak to you privately for a moment?"

"No. Stepping on my foot won't work, either." He was surprised at how good it felt to be telling off this youth, warning him that Daine was not his to toy with. "Do I make myself clear, Prince Kaddar?"

The brave young man nodded slightly in understanding, eyes never leaving the black robe mage's. "I understand you well, Master Salmalin."

Numair was pleased with the impression he had made. "Good." He stood slowly, reiterating his powerful presence to further warn Kaddar. When he was fully up, he said, "Lindhall tells me you also have an excellent memory. I hope so." And walked away.

Through the whole discussion, he had not once looked at Daine. He had embarrassed her greatly, he knew. Yet he could never forgive himself if something happened to her on Kaddar's account and he had not said anything to stop it.

If he was being a tad bit possessive, Numair ignored it. –Daine is my student, therefore my responsibility- He tried to reason with himself.

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A/N: Ok ok, so one of my not so good chapters. I'm sorry, I'm all out of creativeness. Yeah, unless someone has another scene for me to do, this is the last chapter. It just seems to me that I'm rewriting the dialogue, doing nothing for my own. Reviews are nice, but not life sustaining.


	4. The Letter

A/N: I have some sort of an idea for a one shot fic, but I don't want to write it cause I'd destroy it, so if you're interested, visit my bio page and the challenge will be up there. I hope at least one person does it!

Thank you to all who reviewed, I'm not on my computer so I can't personally address you...I'm sorry.

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In the early afternoon, Numair sat along with the other Tortallans in the conference room, again the peace talks were to commence. His thoughts wandered to Daine (a place they had been lingering a lot lately), he hadn't seen her yet that morning although she had left a note in the common room saying that she was checking on the Emperors birds. Numair wished he could be with her now instead of sitting in the unbearable heat with grumpy old men.

These talks were getting them nowhere, and amusing fantasies of the different aged ambassadors yelling and shaking their walking sticks at each other flickered through his mind. Now that would be memorable.

Once he got these admittedly childish images out of his head and moved on to thinking about uninteresting international bonds, Numair's former best friend dramatically entered the room.

Even with his braids their natural brown color, and this clothing much more practical than the evening wear, Emperor Ozorne had the precise quality of one who took much pride in their appearance.

The low hum of conversation died as Ozorne took his place at the head of the room. Painted eyes swept across the crowd, pleased with the attention given.

"Good afternoon, guests. We are afraid that some bad news has befallen us and our company." Ozorne held up a small piece of parchment in his left hand. "This was found in the aviary earlier today."

Numair couldn't help but notice how pleased Ozorne seemed by this bad news.

"It is from the Tortallan delegate, Veralidaine Sarrasri."

Numair's heart began to thud quickly in his throat. Something had happened to Daine, why else would Ozorne announce bad news and look so happy?

Ozorne paused to give a dramatic affect before continuing. "She states in this brief letter here, that she has run into the city, and gives hints at conspiracy against us." Ozorne's eyes looked over to where the Tortallan delegates were seated. "Perhaps there is some explanation?"

Silence coated over them like a thick, wool blanket. No one said anything; there was nothing that could be said, except for-

"Impossible," it was one of the older Gallan ambassadors that spoke first. "I've met this young woman. She is very gracious and would not go gallivanting about the city like an animal, wreaking havoc. This cannot be true." Others throughout the room murmured their agreement.

Despite the circumstances, Numair found room to be amused at the irony in what the Elder had just said. Ozorne, however, looked less than pleased. A stench of annoyance crossed his features before he artfully cleared them to look almost somber.

"We were very surprised as well, Lord Underwood, but it is clearly written and signed by her hand."

At his signal, a slave bowed over to Ozorne. Ozorne handed the parchment to the slave, pointing to Lord Underwood who had expressed his doubt. The slave then passed the letter to the Gallan who, after studying it for a long moment, handed it to those next to him.

"Forgive me, your Imperial Highness, for questioning," he bowed.

The Tortallans sunk lower in their chairs at his words. The letter was now being passed to those delegates from Tyra. Slowly, person-by-person, Tortalls allies were being turned against them. Quiet, rushed discussions were beginning among the ambassadors, making the Tortallans feel even more alienated.

The letter finally made its way over to Alanna, who took it and reluctantly looked it over. After seeing the ever-growing look of despair on her face, Numair knew that they were in extreme trouble. Alanna handed it to Gareth the Elder on her right, and then looked around the room for some sign of comfort. She met Numair's gaze and held it as a silent understanding was passed between them.

The letter contained exactly what Ozorne said it did, but still it was so unlike Daine. As Numair watched Alanna, he felt anger replace his fear. This was done to frame them and end the peace talks, and there was no doubt in his mind that Daine had not written the letter.

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Members of the Imperial Guard dressed in maroon kilts with gold washed armor, formed a box surrounding the Tortallans, escorting them to a ferry that would take them to their boat. Numair walked towards the back of the group radiating anger. He was a stormy cloud on a sunny day, with his black robe billowing out behind him, his lips tight and eyes as sharp as knives, he was a powerful image. Harailt, who walked next to him, did not seem deterred by this, and grabbed on to Numair's arm, talking quickly to the much taller man.

"Numair, you mustn't do anything foolish. Wait until we get back to the boat where we can meet and decide what to do from there. We are all just as upset, we must at least give a look of cooperation." Harailt paused to take a few breaths then continued, "You cannot take on all these guards by yourself. Even if you are a black robed mage, they will catch you and I don't think Ozorne will be as forgiving a second time. We've already lost one of our number, do not make us loose another." Harailt stopped talking as they reached the water line.

Numair slightly registered what Harailt had said, but his thoughts were more focused on Ozorne's dungeons. Numair had been there once, and it was not something he wanted for himself or any of his friends. The thought of Daine being kept in them gave him fantasies of horrible ways to kill Ozorne.

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Once on the boat, the Tortallans crammed into a small cabin to discuss their next move. No one spoke in the beginning, all at a loss for words. Thoughts rushed through Numair's head, images of the letter being passed around, of seeing Daine the night before; it all lead him to one conclusion.

"We must find Daine." There was no question in Numair's voice, just solemn certainty.

"Impossible, our duty is to return home and warn the king." Lord Martin was obviously not happy with this situation.

"She's one of ours," it was Alanna who spoke. Numair was glad someone agreed with him. "That letter's a forgery – it must be. He's keeping her somewhere, and using it as a pretext to end the talks and declare war."

Numair listened to the conversation with one ear, still thinking about what had to be done to find his student.

Duke Gareth answered Alanna. "We cannot prove that, my child. Neither can we help Daine; we must warn the country. As it is, Tortall will stand alone against him. By announcing it before the foreign ambassadors, he made certain they believed his proof that Daine conspires against him. As far as our allies are concerned, we caused the talks to fail."

Numair was done with sitting here and wasting time. He spoke up, "You can warn Tortall, then, and the King. I won't leave without her."

"We never should have brought that child," again Lord Martin spoke. Numair thought of correcting his use of the word 'child', but held his tongue. "I knew it would be trouble." He stood and walked to the door, demanding that it let him through.

Once he had left, Lindhall, who had joined them, turned to Numair. "Arram, there is more at stake than any girl, even this one." Numair felt anger well up in him again at his former teachers words. Why did everyone insist upon calling her 'just some girl'? She was Daine; Daine who had saved them all countless times. She was just as important, if not more important, than everyone else in the room.

Linhall went on, "The information passed to you – contacts, new routes for the slave underground, conspirators' names – it must go North, now, before the borders are closed by war." Numair knew all of this, but somehow after the disappearance of Daine, it all seemed less urgent. The only thing that mattered was finding Daine and making sure that she was alright. "We may have to get the prince out in a hurry if the emperor begins to suspect him, and the only way to do it safely is to have all prepared on your end."

Numair shook his head. "I don't care. Someone else can take the information to the kind."

Alanna wheeled around and slammed both fists into the wall in a sudden act of anger. "I hate not doing something! I hate it! I want to go back there and –"

She was interrupted by the resurrected bird, Bone, who had landed on her shoulder in an act of comfort. "Go away, you old Bone," she whispered through her tears.

Numair sympathized with Alanna. He wanted action, and he wanted it now. He wanted to find Ozorne and blast him to shreds, showing him how much he had learned since they had parted. He wanted revenge, but most of all, he wanted Daine. He wanted to hold his student and protect her from any oncoming evil that this Gods cursed country presented. When he had first heard that Daine was gone, a shock went through him like a current of pain. Now that he was numbing to that feeling, he realized how much she meant to him. He would die if it meant her happiness.

"You cannot, my dear." Duke Gareth felt for Alanna. "We are going to war. Your place is at home with the king and his armies."

Alanna turned toward the wall to hide her tears.

The duke turned to Numair. "Numair, if you choose to remain, I cannot stop you – you are too great a mage. Please think, then. The emperor is mad, but not stupid –", Numair scoffed internally at this, "– he knows you wouldn't leave Daine here. My concern is that he has planned for just that eventuality."

Numair looked over at Linhall, who, it seemed, was thinking along the same lines. "I'm aware of the danger, Your Grace. I have taken precautions. They may be enough. Ozorne has trouble believing in his heart that anyone else has more of the Gift than he does, even when his mind knows there are more powerful mages. I can use that to fool him. As for the knowledge of the prince's conspiracy –"

"Give it to me," Alanna said. Numair was glad she had offered. He was planning on suggesting a much worse alternative. "It's the least I can do."

Numair looked at the duke for permission, and it was given with a tired nod. He placed his fingers on Alanna's temples; black fire sparkled at their connection. Images and pieces of information ran quickly through his mind and out of his fingertips into Alanna.

Once this was done, they both opened their eyes to an empty room. The others had left them to get ready for the trip back.

Alanna turned and looked at Numair straight in the eye. "Numair, what are you planning on doing? It's dangerous for you here."

Numair returned her gaze. "I know. It's dangerous for Daine too. Once I get her back, we'll leave as fast as can be arranged."

Despite his words of confidence, Alanna noticed a trace of fear flash through his eyes as he sat down on the bunk nearest him.

"I'm worried, Alanna. What if Ozorne has done something to her...what if I don't make it in time? What if there is nothing I can do?" As he asked these questions his voice continually got softer. "I'll never forgive myself –"

"Numair," Alanna sat beside him. "I'm worried too. We do what we can, and no one can ask more of us. Daine is capable of taking care of herself; you of all people should know this. You taught her well." She hesitated, then continued, "She means a lot to you."

Numair put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. Quietly he responded, "She is everything, Alanna."

Alanna rubbed his back in comfort, then stood. "Good luck."

She left the room silently, leaving Numair to his tortured thoughts.


End file.
